If You Can't Hang
by LoveGurl5231
Summary: Drugs. Sex. Violence. Eli was never like this till Clare broke his heart. Now he's a full fledged coke addict. And has caught one bad girl's eye. And as the song goes, if you can't hang,then there's the door baby.   Bad summary. Story is better. REVIEW!


**Hello(: New plot bunny is here. This story is called If You Can't Hang for a reason. Yes it is a Sleeping With Sirens reference but it doesn't exactly correspond with what the song entails.. piece of art though(: So yeah... I'm tryting something different for this story... Oddly this will end up being an Eli-Bianca pairing.. weird and out of my element... but just hang in there for me. So I'm going to start this now... hopefully you like this.**

**If You Can't Hang**

**Chapter 1: Bloodshot**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Sleeping With Sirens and or Degrassi.**

**Eli~**

Brightness. A warm shiny light. Breaking me out of the depths of my slumber. The most needed thing in my life since I was deffinately lacking in it. Vitamin D was important too, but just not as much as my much needed sleep. But that's what it does to you. That's what it does to everyone. Make you happy for the time being. Yet after it's over, when you can think, you just want to sleep, eat, and crawl into a dark hole and never witness the joyous daylight ever again. Now was one of those times.

You see when you're in it, you're trapped. It's got you and wont let go. It's terrible for you yet without it you're a mess. Your brain gets fucked up too. I mean the way you think.. You can't think of anything else but who has it, where said person is, how much it'll cost you, and where you can put it to use. Only to find yourself with the same thoughts 8 hours later.

And if you can't get it for awhile.. then it's just all bad. The paranoia. The night terrors. The inability to hold a pen because you're shaking too bad. All signs that you have to get some more. And you have to get it quick. Dealing it makes it the easiest to get. The money you bring in: more funding.

When you first get into it, it's sort of harmless. Like a board game. You do it for fun. The affects make you more relax. As if the world is at peace for that some moment of time until you crash and it's a piece of shit. And there's where you end up getting hooked. When you realize how shitty your life, and reality are. Plain and simple. Just like that.

The object I'm talking about? Cocaine. Yes, coke. The illegal substance that every famous person in Hollywood in the 80's was sniffing in their dressing room.

I'm not exactly proud of what I do.. but without it, I can barely even remember my own name now.

I first got into this when I was 17. Two years ago an ex of mine toyed with my heart and shoved the fact that I couldn't have her, in my face. Clare Edwards, was her name. And I despise almost everything about her now. Exccept for her eyes. Those magnificent blue orbs filled with wonderment... I don't think anybody could ever hate those things... too beautiful. A blue so open and pure, unlike that little witche's heart.

I'd go into more detail but the Sun has made it's presence into my room and I must suffer the aftermath of last night's "party".

Rolling out of bed, I flinched feeling the cold hardwood floor on my feet. Whilst stretching I let out a long yawn and looked down at my black and gray flannel pajamas, seeing that my little friend had joined me this morning. This friend being my, "morning wood". Rolling my head and stretching my neck I walked into the bathroom and pushed the light switch. The florescnet lights making an appearence and causing me to slightly squint.

I walked over to the sink and truned on some cold water. I splashed my face and sighed in contempt. That is until I looked in the mirror. My hair was messy and I had a huge cowlick on the top of my head, there were dark purple rings under my eyes, and my eyes were bloodshot. The usual bright green had gone dull and the whites of my eyes, a soft pink. My lips were chapped and I looked too pale for my regular olive complexion. I looked sick. Like going to die, kind of ill. The kind of ill where people put on face masks at the hospital even if they're just walking past said person.

This wasn't me. This couldn't be me. But it was. Why I couldn't remember last night's events, I don't even know. I usually always do. But today, I just couldn't.

"No." I mumbled to myself glaring into the mirror. Glaring at was now the face of a cokehead.

"No." I said a little louder. Glaring even harder. "I don't look sick. This isn't me." I said completely denying the fact this is what I've become.

"This isn't me!" I snapped loudly, slamming my hand against the mirror. It cracked but the reflection never changed.

"Oh but it is." A female voice chimed in. "And I like it."The voice purred.

Turning around, I came face to face with Bianca DeSousa. Someone I went to high school with. Her hair was in a mess of curls, her eyeliner smudged, and she was wearing _only_ my shirt from the night prior.

So that's what happened last night.

**This sucked... big time. Should I continue? Delete? Review please!(:**

**But yeah... this just popped into my head.. Review(:**


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